


Tomorrow is Another Day

by Morgane (smilla840)



Category: Casino Royale (2006), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Spoilers for Skyfall, Where did Villiers go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-07
Updated: 2012-11-07
Packaged: 2017-11-18 04:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/557005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilla840/pseuds/Morgane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the movie ends Bond meets up with Villiers again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomorrow is Another Day

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: SPOILERS for Skyfall. I cannot stress this enough. Do not read if you haven’t seen the movie and don’t want to be spoiled about its ending.
> 
> Since I still haven’t heard a satisfactory explanation as to where Villiers disappeared to after Casino Royale (or any explanation at all – yep, I’m still not over that) I’m fixing that again. You can probably expect one of those after each new Bond release ;) So here’s my new head canon for Villiers’s absence from Quantum of Solace and Skyfall!

James sits in the back and watches important people try to make meaningful speeches about duty and honour. 

He isn’t impressed. He’d like to think M wouldn’t be either.

It’s hard to forget the people now singing her praises are the same ones who wanted to leave her out to dry last week – hard to forget that had she made it, M would likely be out of a job by now. Silva’s escape from MI6 custody had been the last nail in her coffin – both metaphorical and, it turned out, literal – and the shadow of the enquiry still hangs over their heads. It goes unmentioned of course – British politeness at its best – but it’s on everyone’s mind, making a mockery of the fawning and sanctimonious bullshit.

M deserved better.

James usually tries not to hold grudges – in his line of work, it’s rarely worth it. In this instance though, he just might make an exception.

The droning stops and people start to leave, and James realises he’s missed the end of it. No loss there. However his distraction has made him lost sight of the man he had spotted earlier – the reason he had bothered coming at all really. Fortunately it takes him less than a few seconds to find him again, the slow throng of people moving at a snail’s pace towards the exit hardly making it a challenge.

He times it well and catches up with Villiers as they both near the door.

“Bond,” Villiers acknowledges with a nod, and he responds in kind with an equally short “Villiers.”

They make their way out in silence, heads facing forward and ignoring the way their arms brush when the crowd pushes them together.

“Drinks?” James asks once they’re outside, and Villiers actually looks like he might say no before James uses his trump card. “In M’s honour.”

He gets a vaguely exasperated glare in response, but Villiers nods. It’s fine: James has always cared more about the end results than how he got there.

They get spotted before they can leave, and Tanner descends on them – or rather on Villiers. He’s got questions, a lot of them, and James grows increasingly impatient.

“Why don’t you schedule a meeting?” he cuts in. “I’m sure Villiers can stick around for a couple of days.”

His interruption makes the two men stare at him, Tanner with surprise and Villiers with annoyance. But whatever is on James’s face seems to convince Tanner that arguing would be unwise – it’s good to know he still has some clout around here – and the man whips out his phone to call up his schedule.

“Tomorrow at 11?” he asks, and Villiers nods.

“That’s fine.”

“Great!” James says with a too-wide smile, stirring Villiers away before anyone else can decide to start a conversation with M’s former aide and the current head of the Cairo desk.

His palm on Villiers’ lower back is possibly too proprietary considering their location and audience, and from the tightening of the man’s jaw he doesn’t approve. But then Villiers’s disapproval has always made James a little reckless so he risks it, even though he knows he might get decked for it.

He can always duck.

They get into his car and Villiers doesn’t protest when James drives towards his flat. They don’t talk, Villiers seemingly engrossed by the streets of London with something that might be nostalgia on his face while James’s attention alternates between the road and his passenger. Only when his front door has closed behind them and they’ve gotten rid of their coat does he break the silence.

“How is Cairo treating you?” he asks, pouring them a drink that Villiers slams back immediately, the action causing him to wince.

James raises an eyebrow.

“I thought you were dead, you ass,” Villiers growls.

“Did you miss me?” He teases, knowing it’ll only infuriate Villiers further – and hide how much he wants to know the answer.

“Not at all.”

“Liar.” James grins and downs his own drink.

It’s easy to back John against a wall, to mold their bodies together. John looks defiant and still a little angry as they stare at each other, waiting for the other’s next move and playing an elaborate game of chicken. In this particular case though, James doesn’t mind losing: he breaks eye contact with another grin and bends slightly to kiss John. But the man turns his head away before their mouths can meet, and James – never one to miss an opportunity – presses his lips against the long stretch of John’s neck instead.

“I’m not going to sleep with you,” John says, warning and maybe a hint of regret in his voice.

“Aren’t you?” James ups the ante and bites down lightly on the skin below John’s ear, smiling at the man’s sharp intake of breath. It may have been a while, but he still knows what John likes.

“I’m seeing someone.”

Bond stills. That is new. Then again he was dead for a long time – not that he thinks Villiers spends his time pining after him in-between their trysts even when one could safely assume Bond to be alive and kicking.

“Break it off.”

Villiers laughs, sounding genuinely amused by Bond’s audacity. “No.”

“Do you love her?” he asks idly. He isn’t sure what he hopes the answer will be.

“Him. And none of your business.” Villiers pushes James away and he goes, putting some distance between them.

“This is disappointing,” he comments, going for unbothered as he pours them another drink.

“I’m so terribly sorry to inconvenience you,” Villiers says wryly, the words heavy with sarcasm, but he accepts the glass and raises it slightly. 

There is nothing awkward about it. It’s hardly the first time one of them has said no to this, whatever this is, and it doesn’t change anything. That’s why James likes spending time with John – in or out of the bedroom. They know each other well – too well maybe, but instead of being alarming it’s almost comforting. After all there aren’t that many people James can call a friend and mean it these days. Besides, trying to rile up Villiers is fun – he gives as good as he gets.

“To M,” Villiers says and James clinks their glasses together. 

“To M,” he toasts back.

They sit and nurse their drinks – slowly this time. Eventually the conversation picks up again, and it’s easy and pleasant and not too serious, James talking about living on the beach and John expounding on the virtues of the Egyptian Museum. Of course James flirts, he doesn’t come with an off switch, and Villiers suffers it good-naturedly, rolling his eyes in the most unimpressed manner when James tries one of his lesser lines – and biting back a smile at the good ones.

By the time John gets into a cab, he’s a little drunk, the lines on his face soft and relaxed. It’s the same look he wears when he wakes up in the morning, a little fuzzy and slow, a far cry from the sharp edges he presents to the world the rest of the time. James watches him go a little wistfully and wonders whether his lover gets to see him like that – whether he treasures the sight as much as James does.

It also makes him wish Villiers was still stationed in London. James misses their time together – misses _John_. 

He hadn’t expected that.

 

Two months later Mallory assigns him an op in Cairo, and James finds himself smiling with anticipation as he reads the file.

The comment section filled by the head of the Cairo section is almost inconspicuous after pages and pages of intel, and James would have missed it entirely if he hadn’t been paying close attention. _‘Suggest 007 for the operation,’_ is all it says, the succinct wording reminiscent of M, more order than request.

James’s smile widens. 

This is going to be fun.


End file.
